Thy Rod and Thy Staff
by Ellislash
Summary: Coach comes to terms with Ellis and Nick's relationship. NxE, OC. Coarse language and adult themes. I don't own anything Valve does.


"What's it you Catholics say? 'Bless me father, I have sinned,' right?"

The priest smiled sadly. "No need to stand on formality. This isn't a cathedral. For all I know, the Holy See is gone. Tell me your troubles and we'll try to work them out together, with God." He placed one hand on the kneeling man's shoulder and guided him to his feet with the other. "In the interest of full disclosure, of course, I'm not as sure in my beliefs as I once was."

Coach took the seat offered in the priest's makeshift office. There was no confessional, not even a real church set up in the camp. Just a mess hall, some chairs, and a single crucifix. Young Father Brian was the only official clergyman there, from Philly and a bit nervous amongst the Southern Baptists. But these days, you thanked God for any kind of guidance at all. The poor priest had been counseling dozens of people a day for two weeks.

"Well, you know how we all got here," his penitent began. "It's been a long road, an' we done some unrighteous things just t'survive. We all gone a little off in the head, y'know? But now, I ain't here to talk 'bout no killin' or stealin' or feelin' guilty for survivin' when ev'ryone else didn't." Coach grimaced. "We got ourselves a diff'rent kinda sinnin' goin' on in our house."

The clergyman raised his eyebrow. Since coming to the camp (_internment__ camp_, he thought, remembering what was never said aloud, _we're __carriers__ and__ they __want __us __dead_), he'd acted as counselor to a dizzying number of wandering souls agonizing over the terrible things they'd had to do to make it out of hell. "Thou shalt not kill," broken. Are you sure it didn't count as theft if nobody else was_ alive_ to take the car? Trying to reach out and help the infected, as Jesus did, just got friends killed. And having to kill friends who'd succumbed to the plague was a memory that kept half the camp awake at night. _What_, wondered the priest, _could __possibly__ be__ "__different__" __here?_ He motioned that the heavyset man should continue.

Coach shifted uncomfortably. "Well, it's been a long road," he repeated. "We gone through all that sh- 'Scuse me, all that stuff an' we made it out alive, but we ain't the same." He rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly. "Me an' Rochelle, we take comfort in bein' together, just sittin' sometimes an' thinkin' 'bout it all. We're quiet-like. But Nick'n'Ellis..."

Brian saw the flush even under Coach's dark skin. He was curious, but let the man continue at his own pace. The southerner began inspecting the floor between his feet, hands clasped in front like he was already praying.

"They... They actin' like Ro' an' me. An' we all sit together, y'know, we all real close after what we did, but they... _diff'rent_." He was fidgeting like a child forced to sit through his first Easter mass. "I seen them _kissin'_ an'... Well, I thought, whatever, y'know, Ro's a virtuous woman an' them young 'uns prob'ly losin' touch how t'deal with... things..." It sounded like "thangs," as the embarrassed Coach's accent grew thicker with every word. "An' I let it go, I turned my _back_, even nights they wake me _up_ with... Good _lawd_, they was doin' what Gawd done _said_ only husbind an' wife should do, an' I _ignored__ it_." He pounded his knee for emphasis. "Ain't _right_ fo' a man t'be... _ridden_ like that!"

The young priest had trouble keeping his "listening" face on. _This __is __definitely __new_, he admitted. _But__ what __in __Jesus'__ name __am __I __supposed __to __do __about __it?_

Coach composed himself, enough that he could look Father Brian in the eye again. "So we make it here. I'm thinkin' they'd get their sh- 'Scuse me, get their _act_ together. At first it looked that way, both of 'em flirtin' with every girl as didn't look like she'd kill the next one to speak to her." He suddenly clenched his fist. "Then just this last Monday, we only been here _fifteen __days_, I saw 'em _kissin_' again! An' God is my witness I tried to talk 'em down that night. I told them all about what's in the Good Book, how maybe since we was in Hell anyways what we did gettin' here didn't matter, but now we back in _civilization_ we gonna act like _people_ again...!"

His head fell, gaze burning a hole in the dirt floor. His voice grew quiet, like he was holding back tears of rage. "Ellis looked guilty. He got brought up right, I thought, knows t'fear God an' obey His word. But it didn't work. Not a word. They sinnin' more an' more, woke me up _twice_ this week an' I seen 'em comin' outta the bedroom t'gether, smilin' like no shit, in the _middle_ of the _God __damned__ day!_" He was so upset that he didn't bother keeping his mouth clean in a house of the Lord. "Ain't _fair_ t'me an' Ro' t'be actin' like that! Condemn yo' _own_ selves t'the Devil, fuck whoever yo' want, but you under _my_ roof and what you doin' damns me _too!_" A couple of tears fell from his face and left tiny dark spots in the dust.

Father Brian sat stunned by the outrage and passion in Coach's tale. He wasn't even trying to look calm and collected anymore, just focused on keeping his jaw from hitting the ground. It was overwhelming. But the other man wasn't quite finished.

"And they're my _friends_," Coach nearly whispered as a few more tears followed the first. "My _brothers_. I can see how happy they make each other. I _want_ they should find some happiness, after what we all been through. I could live with lettin' 'em be, just s'long as we can get some insulation f'r that wall." He looked up again, and Brian was startled by the redness of his eyes, and the look of exquisite desperation on his face. This man had seemed to be made of sterner stuff when he first arrived.

"What do I do, Father?" Coach asked in a strangled voice. "I can't kick 'em out. We all need each other. But I can't let 'em stay, if they sins damn us all." The tears flowed freely now. "What do I do?"

The priest was at a complete loss for words. _Three__ years __out __of __seminary. __I__ can't __handle __this,_ he thought, and wished fervently that Brother MacLangley were there. That man knew every corner of the human soul and could, in his firm but gentle way, coax an answer out of even the most hopeless of situations. _He'll__ be __a __saint __one __day, __I __bet,_ Brian idly wondered, then focused completely on the task at hand.

This man was torn between loyalty to friends and loyalty to God. Six months ago the answer would have been obvious. Homosexual acts were sinful, and those who practiced them must be shown the path back into the fold. End of story.

But now... After so much horror, so much death and the utter ruination of millions, Brian's faith was on shaky ground. He'd used the "ineffable plan" and "divine mercy" and a dozen different broad, reassuring concepts to calm the survivors, to give them a sense of direction and to ease the guilt. Any stricter dogma or harsher interpretation could easily drive people into deep depression, possibly suicide. That was unacceptable.

Suddenly, watching a man twice his age lose hope, the young priest realized that he hadn't been listening to his own advice.

He leaned forward and took one of Coach's hands firmly in both of his own.

"It isn't over," he said passionately. "You're not alone anymore, but the journey _isn't_ over. It will take _decades_ to heal these wounds, and you've only been here two weeks? God's works are sometimes incomprehensible to us, and we can only ever do our human best to struggle on through when things are hard, so that we can live to do His will in better times. Yes, He brought the plague down upon us. Maybe it was punishment, maybe it's a test, maybe it's something else we can't even _begin_ to imagine."

Brian could feel electricity crackling up his spine, and it reminded him of the very first time he'd heard Psalm 23: _Yea,__ though__ I __walk __through __the __valley __of __the __shadow__ of __death,__ I__ will __fear __no __evil_...

He squeezed Coach's hand tighter. "But in His mercy He also gave us a way to _survive_, and the tools we need to carry on living! He _understands_ our limitations, our faults, our failures, and He _spared_ us, you and me and everyone in this camp, for a _reason_! We are _already_ blessed in His eyes, or He would not have seen fit to bring us here." His eyes grew brighter and brighter as he spoke. "We need to _keep_ surviving, and continue to heal however we can. Let go of your fears. Let your brothers be themselves. They are of His flock, too." He drew a deep breath and clasped both of Coach's hands in his own. "Join me in prayer. _The__ Lord __is __my __shepherd, __I__ shall __not __want..._"

Coach bent his head and joined the young clergyman. They sat, mirroring each other, foreheads resting on their clasped-together hands as they recited the blessed words. He wrestled with his conscience, trying desperately to strike a balance between his own fear of damnation, his honest desire for his friends to be happy, and this incredible new idea of total surrender into the hands of God.

_He__ restoreth __my __soul..._

_It's __so __selfish_, he realized, _to__ cast __out __the__ men __who __saved __my __life __over __and __over __again, __because __they __love __each __other, __just __so __I _might _have __a __better __shot __at __the__ Pearly __Gates!_ Coach squeezed his eyes tightly shut, striving to internalize the idea and overcome his fear. _An'__ he's__ right. __We__ ain't __done __yet. __Where __do __we __go __from__ here? __This __camp's__ a __prison __an' __the __only __real __thing __we__ got __is __ourselves. __Our __team._ His heart warmed, thinking of the three other survivors he'd come to view as family. They _couldn't_ really live without each other, not yet...

_Yea,__ though__ I __walk __through __the __valley __of __the __shadow__ of __death, __I __will __fear __no __evil..._

Nick. Ro. Ellis.

His eyes opened wide.

"Thou art WITH me!" he shouted, jumping to his feet in epiphany. Father Brian was so startled he nearly toppled over backwards.

Coach was smiling like the father of the bride, eyes gone soft and welling up with tears, this time of joy. "For thou art with me..." He whispered the line again, then extended an open hand to the bewildered priest.

"Thank you, Father. May your cup runneth over."

Brian sprang up and shook the offered hand heartily, simultaneously confused and surer than he'd ever been. _We__ didn't __finish __the __Psalm_, he thought, _but __that __doesn't__ really __matter __so __much,__ does__ it?_

"No no, thank _you_. You've done me a great service today."

They beamed at each other, and the layman turned to duck out of the tent.

"The Lord be with you!" Brian called after him. Coach looked back.

"And also with you."

* * *

><p>The old footballer practically danced back to their cabin, reciting the sixth and seventh lines over and over. <em>...though<em>_ I__ walk__ through__ the __valley..._ Passing strangers gave him suspicious looks, but when they heard what he was chanting, they invariably brightened up a little. Some joined in the Psalm themselves. Even the camp guards, watching everything from inside military hazmat suits, seemed to loosen their tight grips on their rifles - just a little.

Leaving a trail of hope in his wake, Coach neared Block 6, number 4B. He almost laughed out loud. Everything was so clear! So obvious! _We__ all __got __here__ together, __and __we __gonna_ stay _together,_ his mind sang. _Heavenly __Father__ put __us __here, __Heavenly __Father's __gonna__ see __us __through.__ We __all __just __the __way __He __made __us, __and__ it's__ ALL OKAY__._ He actually skipped the last hundred feet to their door, earning himself bewildered stares from the neighbors._ This __side __of __Doomsday,__ we __servin'__ Him__ just __bein' __ourselves!_

He burst through the door singing his favorite gospel song, "The Storm is Passing Over."

"HA! LE! LUUUUIA!"

His weird little family was so startled that Ellis' hand of cards went flying as all three of them reflexively reached for nonexistent weapons. Rochelle recognized him first, and put a hand to her chest.

"Good lord, mister, you near gave me a heart attack!"

Nick raised one sardonic eyebrow as he re-shuffled the deck. Ellis grabbed it from him, claiming he'd stack it.

"You finally found religion, old man? 'Cause you got an appointment notice in the mail from Saint Peter." Rochelle rolled her eyes.

Coach didn't even bother responding. As Rochelle gave him a peck on the cheek, he lifted Ellis and Nick to a standing position and swept all three of them into a tight group hug, grinning like he'd won the lottery.

"All y'all, I love ya like family," he said warmly as Nick squirmed and complained loudly that he was being crushed. Ellis and Rochelle laughed, because they'd never seen Coach act this silly before.

"Hell, man, you drunk or somethin'?" Ellis chuckled when they were released, and pulled his new blue t-shirt straight.

"No, boy, I am not," Coach announced proudly. "But I got somethin' to say to y'all. You too, Nick, gitchore ass back here!" he ordered the gambler, who had returned to shuffling cards.

"C'mon, let's hear it," goaded Ellis. "Nick! You're bein' rude!" he called to his partner, who sighed, came back, and goosed him.

"Now, boys, let's calm down for one second and let him talk," chided Rochelle as Ellis rounded on Nick for revenge. They reluctantly composed themselves with faces that said "_Awwww,__ mom..._" better than an actual whine ever could. Coach still smiled at them.

"Y'all remember the other day when I threw the Good Book atcha?" Both younger men looked uncomfortable, and Ellis nodded. "Well I'm here to say that I apologize. Ain't right to put my own fears ahead of my friends - hell, my family - but that's exactly what I did. And I'm sorry."

Ellis' mouth hung open in confusion. Nick swiftly thought better of asking what, exactly, had changed the older man's mind, but Coach volunteered the information anyway.

"Got to talking with a preacher today, and he showed me how selfish I was bein' then. And he made me realize, we all blessed to be here, but our road ain't over yet. We gotta take our comfort where we can find it - y'all found each other."

Nick switched to poker-face mode and Ellis blushed scarlet. Rochelle suppressed a giggle before Coach turned to address her personally.

"And I found you, baby girl," he said softly. "You take my mind off things. I dunno what we are, exactly, but if you ever find what those two did..." He jerked his thumb at the other couple, where Nick had his arms wrapped around his partner from behind. "...I'll be the one walkin' down the aisle to give you away."

Rochelle's hands went to her mouth, eyes wide above them. Nick gagged theatrically and muttered in Ellis' ear.

"Let's get out of here before all their sap traps us in amber."

His boyfriend nodded with a smile, and they quietly slipped into the bedroom.


End file.
